Where my neuroses come to nest.

Look Ma, no man!

Today is my son, Jed’s second birthday. (Thank you, thank you. Yes, they grow up so fast.) His party isn’t until tomorrow, but the grandparents are all coming in early for a more intimate celebration. Just the fam, a nice dinner (read: takeout) and a HUGE pile of presents. When I saw my folks hauling in the loot he was getting from our side of the family alone, I thought to myself, “We’re going to need a bigger boat.” (Please forgive my random, loosely applicable movie/TV quotes and references. And get used to them.) That’s Jaws, and I’m referring to our need for more toy storage. We’ve already repurposed some peach baskets as toy storage for both boy and dog. And I purchased a few apple crates, which are on my to-do list to be transformed into bookshelves for Jed. But this afternoon, while he was sleeping and while Dave was at work (you silly people with your silly jobs), I put together this “super size toy organizer” all by myself!

BeforeAfter!

It’s not like it was a huge feat. The directions were only one page. But ever since I got married, I realized I’ve gotten lazy when it comes to things like repairs and home projects. Why do it myself when there’s a man to do it for me? I think I threw up a little in my mouth just typing that. The Semi-Feminist in me is sickened by these thoughts, while my id applauds my banal instincts. But from now on, I’m going to make a much more mindful effort to do things myself when I am capable. Because I know I can unclog a toilet. And kill a spider. And start a fire. The first step in any addiction is admitting it. My name is Lindsey, and I’m a husband-aholic.

Do you rely on someone or something in your life too much? Step forward and share. This is a circle of trust:)